I check the brand. Dolce & Gabbana. I don’t even want to know how much they cost, but then again, I’m wearing a watch I could probably sell for a midsize car.
“Aish.” He clicks his tongue in dismay. “I forgot the hat.” He takes his own and positions it on my head, then brings up my hood.
The disguise smothers me, and Jihoon’s expression is not greatfor my ego. He snaps a photo. “For Hana,” he says, showing it to me. I look like a gothic mummy.
“Funny,” I say as I pull down the mask and hook it under my chin, glad we’re both trying to make the last minutes light. “This is stifling. I can’t believe you do this all the time.”
He’s frowning as he looks out the window, already planning for his life without me.
Slow disintegration or quick chop? I take a deep breath. What’s the end goal to keeping this going with him? I always have a goal. Suddenly I wish we had more time to talk about what’s going to happen, about us and him and everything, but there’s no time left except to say what I know is the smart thing.
Jihoon is thinking with his heart, which means one of us has to think with their head.
“Jihoon.” My voice is soft.
“Remember to stay in the corner,” he says, glancing out the window.
“Jihoon.”
My tone alerts him, and he swings back to give me all his attention. “Ari? What is it?”
My mouth opens and nothing comes out.It’s the right thing to do, I remind myself furiously.Get it over with so you can both get on with your lives.
But all I can do is say his name again.
This time, he understands and his eyes drop. “Ah.” He plays with his phone, moving it from one hand to another. “You don’t need to say it, Ari. I know.”
“This was fun, and I like you, but…”
“But what?” His eyes are wide.
“You know it won’t work,” I say, staring at my lap to avoid his gaze. “Your life is too different.”
“All this is all external,” he says. “We are what matters, and we only need to try. Give us a chance, Ari. Take a risk.”
I can barely breathe thinking about the crowds waiting for us and the cars, so many cars, on the road. How long did some of those people drive to have a chance to see Jihoon? No, not Jihoon. Min. “I can’t,” I whisper.
“We talked about this. Don’t you believe me that we have a chance?” The hurt bleeds through his voice. I keep rubbing my hands on my thighs to try to get them warm. I hate this conversation, and even worse, I have the horrible feeling I should have kept quiet. It was the right decision, but now that we’re here, I want to run away from the consequences of what I’ve said.
“We didn’t talk about it. Not enough.”
“Why are you doing this right before I leave?” Jihoon’s agitation is contagious. I try to breathe so my voice doesn’t shake. He’s right. This is an inexcusably bad time, but it’s not like it would be better to text him midflight or when he touches down in Seoul. It’s better to do this face-to-face.
“When you go back, you’ll be busy,” I say. “You made that clear.”
“Are you trying to tell me you know my schedule better than I do?” he says with a flash of anger. “I know my priorities.”
I deserve that, but I know I’m right. “Tell me honestly that you have time for something like this right now.” I don’t sayme. That’s too hard.
“I want to try.”
“Wanting isn’t enough when there are only so many hours in a day.”
There’s a long and deep silence in the car, so intense I can almost see it. I unbuckle the watch from my wrist and hold it out. “I should give this back to you.”
“Don’t do this, Ari.” He looks pleading. “The time I spent with you meant so…please don’t do this.”
I can’t even look at him now, but I thrust the watch out. “I’m sorry.”
